


We Are All Stars in Retrograde

by Lockea



Category: DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slavery, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 14:52:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15269865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lockea/pseuds/Lockea
Summary: To sacrifice is good, to protect humans the ultimate service, to be Vaena is to be honored.As part of an alliance with Krypton, Earth accepted a deal -- a certain percentage of humans sent to Krypton each year to serve a ten year contract as slaves. At the end of ten years they were allowed to return home again. Those who went and came back are called Vaena.Dick has just come home from ten years on Krypton, ill prepared to be reintegrated into life on Earth and unprepared to learn that he has four siblings, all of which have followed him into service. Roy never left and is raising his nine-year-old daughter on Earth, but as Dick's childhood friend will do what he can to help Dick recover, even if it may not be the healthiest healing method. Things get complicated when Bruce learns his second son, Jason, was nearly killed while in service.(Beware the tags, as they will be updating as the story goes on.)





	We Are All Stars in Retrograde

**Author's Note:**

> A huge shoutout to the JayDick and JoyDick Discord servers for encouraging me to post this. I am very shy about this one because it's just a weird idea. Like I don't even know where it came from. I have no one I can point a finger at and say, "Yes, this is who inspired this story" which is weird for me because I am a story-weaver -- I draw my inspiration from other story scraps. I can usually point where I got the idea from.
> 
> I am still working on Crimson and Under the Same Sky. I began a new job last month and am just now coming up for air again. Hopefully I will be able to update one of those soon. Thank you everyone for your patience with me.

Kryptonians called them Vaena, the willing slaves, and it was a piece of the contract between Earth and Krypton; Earth would supply Vaena for a contract of ten years at a time, a certain number every year, and then when it was over they would come home again. In return, Krypton sponsored Earth’s acceptance into intergalactic alliances and protected humans from would be marauders. It was what was taught in every elementary school; to sacrifice is good, to protect humans the ultimate service, to be Vaena is to be honored.

Nobody ever talked about going home afterwards.

It’s stupid, Dick thinks to himself, to miss a collar. Yet as he walks through the Lunar Space Port, following the directions on his tablet towards his connecting gate back to Gotham, Dick can’t help but miss Krypton, just a little. It feels weird, being among humans again who are not Vaena, so varied in their clothing. The dark uniform and the sigil on his jacket mark him as different, as honored, and people bow slightly or incline their heads as he moves past them. More than once Dick thinks he sees parents point their children to him and say, low enough, “We owe the Vaena a great debt.”

Dick does miss it though. He misses the familiarity, the routine of service, the blanket of obedience that came with knowing who he was and where he belonged. To be _honored_ here is to be seen as if he’s done something impressive. He supposes it’s better than the alternative. Better this than to be forgotten.

The waiting lounge at Gate Thirteen is already crowded even though the shuttle hasn’t yet arrived. There’s nowhere left to sit and children are screaming. Dick heads over to the glass overlooking the gray rocky terrain beyond, the dark of the stars and the Earth in the distance. Dick hasn’t been home in eleven years, not since he knelt for the first time and swore an oath to serve. One year in training on Krypton, and then ten in service to a family. It’s a sight for sore eyes, to see Earth in blue and green eclipsed in the shadow of the moon.

There’s a tap on his shoulder and instinct tells him he should already be on his knees, but he catches himself before he falls, glancing over his shoulder at an elderly man who smiles warmly. “Would you like my seat, honored Vaena? Surely it’s been a long trip home.”

Dick smiles, kind and polite and slightly vacant. “Thank you, sir, but I could not take your seat. The flight is soon. We’ll be seated plenty during the trip to Earth.”

The man says, “Well, if you want my spot, simply ask. It would not do for a Vaena to stand.”

This consideration is unnerving, and Dick doesn’t care to dwell on it. He would rather watch earth far and beyond, although his memories are hazy of life back home.

(Sixteen, in an argument with Bruce again because, dammit, he’s not a kid.

“You don’t know what you’re sacrificing!” Bruce had shouted at him.

“Of course, I know! I’m old enough to make this decision. Weren’t you my age when you left too?”

“Yes, and I was not ready.”)

He sent a message through the embassy to Bruce that he was coming home, but honestly Dick doesn’t think he’ll see the man at the star port. That’s fine. Dick has other plans in case his foster father doesn’t show. The embassy is preparing for everyone from this year’s release to have guardian homes. There are classes scheduled in every major city including Metropolis to teach the Vaena about the Earth they’ve come home to. About being in your mid to late twenties on a planet that has become a stranger. Still, Dick hopes Bruce will be there.

He’s thought about the words in his head so many times in the past year as he prepared for release. (“You were right. I wasn’t ready. I’m sorry.”)

He loses himself in the stars until the shuttle arrives and is disembarked, refueled, and prepped for a return flight to Earth. There’s two other Vaena on his flight; Dick sees them when he’s seated in first class with them. The trip to the Lunar Port from Krypton hadn’t been as fancy – they were crammed in with each other in rows of quiet contemplation. Maybe Dick and the other two Vaena are still quiet compared to the other humans in first class. The flight attendants are kind and attentive to them. It feels strange, to be here and not meant to serve, to be served by someone else.

He thanks the kind woman in her flight suit who pours his drinks and she smiles and says, “Vaena are always the politest customers.” She says that with a wink and he knows it’s because Vaena, at least, are trained to serve so they know, perhaps more than anyone else, what service means.

Even though he slept most of the flight between Krypton and the Lunar Port, Dick sleeps again on the short flight down, waking only to the jolt of the shuttle on the landing pad. He refuses the help of the man beside him when he retrieves his bags from the overhead bin and makes his way through the space port that serves both Gotham and Metropolis. There’s so many voices when he steps past security, and the flash of cameras and Dick blinks and winces when he realizes that every news organization from Gotham seems to be present.

“Dick Grayson! Dick Grayson!” They shout and Dick knows this can’t be good for him. “How does it feel to be home again? What’s it like being Vaena when you were raised to be one? What is the first thing you’d like to do with your freedom?”

Dick doesn’t answer. He doesn’t want to. He pushes past the crowds and stops, draws up and in on himself when he sees who’s standing there smiling amidst the throng of reporters. Then he drops his bag and runs up to his father, tackling the man in a hug.

“I’m sorry.” Bruce says. “I wanted a private homecoming, but gossip spreads easily in Gotham.”

“It’s all right.” Dick whispers back, not letting go of Bruce, which is fortunate because Bruce doesn’t seem inclined to let go of him. “I’m so sorry. You were right all along.”

Bruce squeezes him harder, briefly, and lets him go. “No, Dick. Not here.” More loudly, clearly for the benefit of the chatter heard over the snaps and flash of cameras, Bruce Wayne says, “Welcome home, son.”

Dick smiles and still doesn’t speak, but that’s fine. That’s fine. The next morning their reunion is broadcast all over the news and on the front page of the paper, but it doesn’t matter to Dick. He’s finally home. He’s finally come the long way home.

*~*~*

There are more pictures on the wall now. Dick comes down the stairs the next morning and stands looking at a picture of a boy playing with a toy on the floor, one of those engineering kits with hundreds of wires and parts and inadequate instructions. The kid looks like he’s having a field day. In the background is a Christmas tree.

“Master Tim.” Alfred says, coming up behind Dick, and Dick doesn’t jump. “He was – is – so bright with such a promising future, but he wanted to serve too.”

Dick nods. “Bruce didn’t stop him?”

Alfred shakes his head. “Master Bruce didn’t stop any of them. Couldn’t, not when he failed to stop you.”

Dick hums in the back of his throat and glances over at the older man, the man who was like a grandfather to him. “He should have made them wait. I would have sorted them out.”

Alfred’s smile is small and wry. “Yes, I imagine you would have, but children always think they know more than their parents. All four of them are gone now. Bruce’s son, Damian, left just a few months ago.”

 “Bruce has a son?”

Alfred nods. “I suppose that’s a story he should tell you. He was… not well… when he came home from Krypton. We as humans don’t do a very good job preparing our Vaena for life afterwards.”

Another hum, low in his throat. Yes. Dick can very much see that. “I’ll try not to have any illicit love children, in that case.” He means it as a sort of joke, but Alfred doesn’t seem inclined to the humor.

“I would almost prefer that, Master Dick, over some of the alternatives.”

*~*~*

There’s four others. Three other children without homes who Bruce took in and Damian, Bruce’s son from just after he came home. Bruce strains to tell the story, in halting fragments of painful memories. A love with a woman who had never served, like a hurricane so immovable, so unshakable. He’d had no choice but to bend to her will and loved every moment of their affair. She gave him what he needed and he….

He gave her the son she always wanted. Until it wasn’t safe for him anymore, to be with her. Until Damian was twelve and in danger and needed somewhere to go to be safe. The shadow of every Vaena before him meant Damian had lived under an expectation that Bruce had tried to dissuade him of. It wasn’t that Bruce hadn’t tried to keep the children who came after from following in his and Dick’s footsteps, but Alfred was right – children did think they knew more than their parents.

Jason, Cassandra, Tim, and Damian. They were gone and Bruce couldn’t take another child leaving. At least now one had returned home. The others would follow, eventually.

In the meantime, Dick works to come back into who he was. Everyone knows that service changes a Vaena, but Dick Grayson Before is not the same as Dick Grayson after, and it becomes a chore, a daily challenge, to remove Dick Grayson, Vaena, from Dick Grayson, son of the Wayne Family.

There are parties, of course. When he came home from Krypton, Bruce Wayne was the first social elite to have served as a Vaena and so his image in the eyes of the public had gone up. The Wayne Foundation that his parents started was one of the biggest charities in the world in terms of the social good it did. It was the largest domestically focused charity too, with branches that helped fund Vaena reintegration programs. Dick had grown up in these galas and balls, interacting with social elites all his life. Now it's different. He is Vaena himself, and that means expectations have changed.

As the layers peel back and day by day Dick Grayson becomes once more human, he finds these gatherings to be less and less grating, though he still takes care, the way he had watching Bruce as a child, to thank the serving staff that are so often taken for granted in these situations. People found it odd when Bruce did it but were more indulgent to Dick Grayson.

It's at one such charity that he runs into an old, familiar face.

"Welcome home, honored Vaena." Roy Harper is in his late twenties, perhaps as old as thirty now, and clearly more at ease with his wealth and status as a ward of Oliver Queen than he was when he was nineteen and Dick had whispered in his ear that he was going to Krypton. At his side is a little girl in a tulle and taffeta dress, part Asian but with freckles on her face that are one hundred percent Roy's own.

"Don't say that." Dick smiles back, warm and teasing. "You don't stand on ceremony with anyone. Why start with me?" And then because he wants to he reaches out and hugs Roy Harper in the middle of the ballroom, with half of the world's elite philanthropists watching him.

"Hey Dick." Roy returns, and there's that fondness there, of who they had been as children, as outsiders to the social elites. As orphan children with unknown backgrounds, ill-equipped to have caught the attention of their respective families. Roy pulls away first and gestures to the little girl (maybe eight or nine) and says, "Lian, this is your Uncle Dick. He is Vaena."

Lian is a somber little girl -- gets it from her mother, apparently -- but she offers a polite if somewhat clumsy curtsy and says, "Welcome home, honored Vaena."

It's cute, it really is.

Dick offers Lian a warm smile and bends down to be at her level, offering a hand for her to shake. "Hello Lian. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Lian seems a bit starstruck by the Vaena in front of her, her dark eyes wide as she looks up to her father for direction, but Roy's just grinning and says, "If you need anything, let me know."

Dick nods, releases Lian, and the two exchange numbers once again. It's nice, it really is, to speak with Roy and know that the man is not going to walk on ice around him. That's what Dick needs right now, to not be put on a pedestal.

Is this how Bruce felt, coming home? At least Dick isn't alone here. He knows who he can lean on.

*~*~*

The embassy warned him he might experience some nightmares as he readjusted to life on earth, that he might experience depression and some symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. The Kryptonians aren't cruel to the Vaena -- wouldn't be, not unless they wanted a war on their hands with the humans and with intergalactic watchdog groups like the Lantern Corps -- but they do demand submission in all things from Vaena and that kind of stress leaves marks. There were treatments and trainings they had to undergo, to minimize the longer lasting effects of the life.

Still, it's on his third sleepless night in a row that Dick, tired and exhausted and unable to function properly, finally calls up Roy. Roy answers sleepily, but he still answers. "Talk to me, Dick." There's concern there, in his voice.

"I think I'm losing my mind." Dick admits. "I can't -- I don't--" The words won't come. The words to explain it all. "I dreamt I was on Krypton, but Bruce was my master, and Bruce wanted my opinion on something so I gave it without thinking and that was... unacceptable."

"Huh." There's warmth there, no pity, just a call to accept Dick's words exactly as they are. To not judge who Dick Grayson became when he went away under the oath of service. "Was that it or was there more?"

"That's all there had to be." Dick admits. "Bruce has been asking me to help out more with the company these days. He says he knows it's hard, to make choices for not just myself but for other people, but that I need to get better at it because I can't -- I can't stay Vaena forever." And there it is, the crux of the fear. He doesn't know what life holds for him anymore. He knew it would be hard but knowing and trying to do it... they're two different things.

"Hey Dick?" Roy asks, not unkindly. "Can I ask you something you don't have to answer?"

"I -- why not?" Dick breathes out. Why does this hurt so much? What is this ache in his chest? This memory? "Sure. Go ahead and ask."

"What would happen to you if you disobeyed your masters?"

For a moment Dick's breath catches at the very notion of disobedience, of not offering full and complete surrender to his masters. But he knows that it's something of a secret. Vaena don't talk about it and they don't teach it in schools. They just say that to be Vaena requires complete submission, but don't explain how it's achieved or even what that looks like to Kryptonians. Instead of just answering the question, Dick explains, "There's these centers in every Kryptonian city, where Vaena are trained before they're sold or assigned to a household. The families we served weren't allowed to discipline us, in order to keep anger from being a factor in punishment, but if you disobeyed, you master would send you back to the center along with a report of your transaction. And, based on what you did to earn it, you would be punished."

"Uh huh." Roy's voice is soft through the phone. "So what would the punishment be, say if you spoke back to your master?"

"It would depend." Dick admits. "Every punishment is instructive. If it were my first time in a while, it might be a retraining session, to help remind me of the oath I swore and the training I went through to be Vaena. If it were more common... well, the worst is either isolation or corporal punishment. I might be kept in sensory deprivation for a few hours or solitary for a few days, or subjected to a beating to remind me that I had sworn my oath and accepted the punishment of not fulfilling it."

"I see." Roy is careful to keep his words free of judgement, a fact for which Dick is grateful, even as he's not sure how he feels about the tone of Roy's voice, which tells him that Roy is displeased by Dick's words. "What would happen if you really, really messed up so much so that you were not a good Vaena?"

The very thought seems to repulse Dick, and he shivers at the mere suggestion. "Assuming they made it through the screening during training? Then they would be retrained, their debt added to until they completed ten years of service. Kryptonians expressed upon the humans the demands of what they would expect and are not patient with humans who do not commit their whole body and soul to the life they expect. That's why the year of training exists. So that any who are not good fits are never sent into households."

"Well then." And the extra word, a curse, is heard in the implication. Dick smiles at Roy's attempt to be supportive. The Roy he knew when they were teenagers was not this mature. It's refreshing, to know that Roy supports him and has gentle words for him.

"Thanks for listening." Dick says. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. I wish I knew how to help you with the nightmares." Roy replies.

"Just talking helps. Having someone who understands but doesn't push. Bruce is pushing me too hard, I think, wanting me to be the way I was before I left for Krypton. I'll never be that kid again though."

"No." Roy agrees. "I'll never be the kid I was before Lian was born. It makes sense, that you won't be the kid you were before you swore the oath."

"Yeah." Dick agrees. "Good night Roy." He hangs up. The sleep that finally comes isn't full of that terrifying fear of fucking up that has followed him since he came back to Earth. He does fuck up, but he's punished for it and it's not more than he can bear.

Weird, how that's somehow less of a nightmare.

*~*~*

Bruce Wayne hosts the Kryptonian Ambassador, Kal-El, for dinner three months after Dick comes home. It’s a quiet, private dinner and when Kal-El arrives at the house it takes Dick back to Krypton for a moment, when they speak the language to one another in greeting. Kal-El has been ambassador for five years now, but he has lived on Earth long enough that Dick knows him from Before.

Seated, the three of them, at the dinner table Dick has to fight off waves of unease as he watches the easy conversation between his foster father and the ambassador.

“My son has decided to study on Krypton.” Ambassador Kal-El says at one point and it’s enough that Dick watches Bruce pause, his face unreadable, and set down the glass of wine he’d been about to take a sip from.

“I hope he is well treated there.”

“He will be.” Kal-El sounds so sure of himself, and Dick remembers Jonathan Lane, Kal-El’s half-human son. A tiny squirt of a thing before Dick left. “Although I suspect his motivation is not to broaden his own horizons.”

“No.” Bruce agrees. “I would imagine not.” He glances over at Dick briefly before turning his attention back to the ambassador.

“What of you, Bruce?” It strikes Dick as odd, to hear his foster father’s name spoken so casually by a Kryptonian. “How have you been holding up since Damian left?”

“As well as could be expected, Ambassador.” Bruce’s words are stiff, too formal. This is not a topic he feels comfortable being broached by an alien. “It has been a great joy to have my eldest home. I am counting days until the rest of my children complete their contracts.”

“I understand.” Kal-El says. “I miss my son already.”

“Begging your pardon, Ambassador.” Bruce replies. “This is not quite the same.”

*~*~*

He meets Roy and Lian at the zoo a few days after the dinner, when the summer is beginning to die and the heat is not so oppressive as to be unbearable. School will be back in session soon and this is a last hoorah for Lian before it’s back to books and weeknight bedtimes. She’s a little less star struck when she sees Dick this time, the first time since the party. Maybe it’s because Dick looks almost normal in his own dark wash jeans and black shirt, the jacket with his sigil on it left behind at home. There’s a way that Vaena carry themselves that tips people off to who they are, even without the sigil.

Roy greets him first with a handshake and second by pulling Dick into a side hug. “How are you holding up?”

Dick makes an abortive motion with his hand, “As well as could be expected. Better, I think, then a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks ago, when he called Roy up in the middle of the night. Roy nods. They make small talk as they walk past the different enclosures. The fennel foxes are Lian’s favorite, but she spends time at the coyotes, because, as she puts it, Coyote the trickster god might be here. Dick smirks. “You’ve been telling her Navajo stories, haven’t you?”

Roy rolls his eyes. “She learned about Native Americans in school and wanted to know more about them, so I told her about my tribe. Sue me.”

Roy’s redheaded and of Irish descent and blood test probably wouldn’t put him in the Navajo nation, but tribe’s about more than blood. Vaena is too. Dick gets that, and he elbows Roy back when the older man goes to tease him about his own Roma heritage when he gets tired of Dick poking fun at him.

They get ice cream at one of the stands near the zoo entrance when Lian’s had her fill of all the animals, finding a place in the shade to enjoy it. Lian gulps hers down almost as soon as they sit and Roy lets her rush off to look at the gift shop.

“Hey.” Roy begins, too casually and Dick’s teeth ache from more than the chill of the ice cream. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Dangerous.” Dick teases back, false lightness in his voice. Roy ignores the quip. “Maybe you could use a few days away from Bruce. He’s Vaena too but maybe that means he’s expecting you to recover at whatever pace he did. Or just bury it faster. Maybe some separation would do you guys some good – give you some breathing space to just… be. For a while, anyway.”

Dick is tense as a board, still like he’s about to be punished. “What are you offering, Roy?”

“Come stay with Lian and I. Anything you want. Anything you need. I’ll give it to you.” Roy’s looking at Dick, gaze intense, green eyes dark. “I want you to get better.”

“Anything?” Dick asks, and why the fuck is he speaking? He needs to be quiet. “What if… What if I need isn’t easy to give.”

“I’d give you the moon if I could, Dick.” Roy replies, all seriousness. “What do you need?”

“I –” Dick’s breath stutters to a halt. He doesn’t know what to say. How to say it. “I need –”

He can’t say it. It’s shameful. He shouldn’t want this. Need this. He should be strong, like Bruce. Bruce who fucking stared down and talked back to a Kryptonian, an ambassador (and a son of the family Bruce served when he was Vaena, if Dick recalls correctly). He should be _better_.

Roy’s finished his ice cream but Dick’s is left forgotten as Roy leans down to capture his lips in a press of cool, sweet flesh against Dick’s mouth. The kiss is firm but not harsh, commanding but gentle. Dick leans back in surprise. Yes, this is what he wanted. Roy takes charge and Dick lets himself be guided through the motions of kissing someone.

God, he hasn’t kissed someone in years. A few moments here or there, stolen in the night with other Vaena, but service was something that didn’t leave time for dallying or personal time. They sacrificed that when they gave up ten years of their lives as Vaena.

“Like that?” Roy asks, serious but with a slight quirk to his lips. “Come stay with me. Just for a little while. You can always go home again whenever. Whenever you’re ready.”

Dick nods because it sounds almost like a command and he relaxes for perhaps the first time since he came home. He falls under Roy’s spell.

Is it healthy? Probably not. He should be more like Bruce and just break free. But Dick is weak and he needs this. He needs someone to take charge and Roy is offering. So Dick is going to take it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for taking the time to read this! If you wouldn't mind, before you go, hitting the kudos button or leaving a comment, I'd appreciate it. Kudos and comments tell me you enjoyed the story and would like to see more, and help encourage me to keep writing and creating.


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